


An Empty Shell Clad in Beskar

by Optimistique



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Din just wants his kid back, Father-Son Relationship, Fix-It, Found Family, Gen, Jedi Training, Luke Skywalker is trying his best, Luke isn't a bad guy he's just inexperienced, Luke was too hasty, Reunions, Some fluff too, no beta we die like stormtroopers, nothing graphic, season 2 finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:07:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28698900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Optimistique/pseuds/Optimistique
Summary: What did one call a man who had lost everything?  The creed he lived by, his tribe, his home, his family.  What was left but an empty shell clad in beskar?Din tries to cope with the sudden loss of the kid he had come to view as his own while Luke Skywalker gets his first crack at training a youngling.  The Jedi soon realizes he may have been hasty in his decision to take the child away from his adoptive father.OR: My attempt to come to terms with the season 2 finale and my take on a fix-it.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda
Comments: 39
Kudos: 280
Collections: Noromo Mando: Mandalorian Genfics Collection





	1. Chapter 1

Din watched through the light cruiser’s viewport as the X-wing zipped into hyperspace, and he knew it was over. All of it. He had thought, for a couple desperate seconds as Grogu clung to his boot even after being set down, that maybe—just maybe—the child would decide to stay with him. Even though it was Din himself who had told him that he would have to go with a jedi when they found a willing one. Even though this exact scenario had been his goal for months now.

But when it came down to it… Din had not known that the human heart could shatter in so many ways. Of course Grogu went with the jedi. Just as he was supposed to. Din knew it was coming from the moment the mysterious robed figure decimated the legion of dark troopers without breaking a sweat. This was the powerful, calm, patient force of wisdom the child needed all along. He would be far superior at raising and protecting a kid as special as Grogu.

Din knew all this, logically. But his head was having trouble connecting with the empty cavity in his chest. It was funny, he thought, that he could still feel his heart beating. He was fairly certain it had just left on an X-wing, never to be seen again.

He could hear the others talking behind them. Their voices sounded like they were underwater, and not because he had replaced his helmet. It was still held loosely in one hand. While he had not turned around to face any of them directly, he also had not put it back on. He was not sure yet if he even could. He broke his creed. The funny thing was, he would gladly do it all over again if it meant the kid’s safety. The kid who he barely got to see for a moment before he was whisked away again.

His hands began to shake. Din had been holding it together by a thread for days, but now he was utterly spent. Keeping his back to the others, he turned toward the door.

“Wait,” Bo-Katan commanded. “About the Darksaber—”

Without facing her, Din unhooked it from his belt and dropped it onto a nearby console. “I forfeit my right to saber. Do with it what you will.”

He stalked through the door without another word. Both Mandalorians tried to call out to him, but he heard Cara interrupt them. “Give him space. He just lost his kid.”

He let the elevator close behind him. He didn’t care where it took him. As long as he could be alone. It opened onto a now empty area that must have been barracks for the storm troopers. The hallway was long. Din paced into it as his fingers tingled with numbness. His breath felt short.

 _When?_ He wondered. When had Grogu become _everything_? Was it when the Armorer had declared them a clan of two? Was it when the baby was swallowed by a sea creature and for a few terrifying minutes Din thought he was lost for good? Was it the first time the baby had run to him with arms held up because he knew the Mandalorian would protect him? Was it when Din thought he would be surrendering the child to Ahsoka, and found that he wanted to spend a few extra minutes to simply hold him? Was it when Din learned his name and Grogu started responding every time he heard it uttered? Or was it when the dark troopers had stolen his child, and all Din could do was watch?

The panic he had been putting off since that day clawed at him now. He felt the heat rising up his neck. His legs lost feeling and Din stumbled. He caught himself roughly on his hands and knees, taking in huge gulping breaths around a throat that was trying to close up. His face was wet. Maybe he wasn’t gulping. Maybe he was sobbing. It had been so many years since he had cried, he couldn’t tell.

 _He’s gone. My kid, my foundling is gone._ Din pressed his bare forehead against the cool metal floor. _He’s gone, he’s gone._

No more quests, no more stolen moments of peace on a ship that was now ashes on a distant world. His shaking hands somehow managed to find the little metal ball inside his pocket. The tiny thing looked so big in Grogu’s hand, but was swallowed up by Din’s palm. He leaned his back against the wall as he sat staring at it.

What did one call a man who had lost everything? The creed he lived by, his tribe, his home, his family. What was left but an empty shell clad in beskar? 

****

The child let out a forlorn sound from where he sat on Luke’s lap. The X-wing was not roomy, but at least the child was small. Luke looked down to see that he had pulled a pendant of some sort from beneath his thick collar. 

“What have you got there?” the jedi asked kindly.

The little one’s green ears drooped as his clawed fingers roamed over the shape of a creature’s skull. It took a few seconds for Luke to recognize it as the fabled mythosaur. _Ah,_ he realized. _The Mandalorian._

It had definitely been a surprise to find the Force-sensitive child that had called to him being protected by a Mandalorian in full beskar. But the bond between them had been palpable even without the help of the Force. “That’s a nice gift, little one,” he remarked, patting the child’s head.

 _“Grogu.”_ The thought came clearly into Luke’s mind. 

The jedi smiled, impressed. “Grogu,” he corrected. “It’s nice to meet you. My name is Luke Skywalker. I heard your call from the Seeing Stone. I can help you learn to control your powers.”

Grogu’s ears twitched up politely, but then wilted again. Luke watched him clutch at the pendant and hum sadly for a few more minutes. “I know this must be hard,” he said gently. “I remember what it was like to leave everything behind to start my training too. Your caretaker did a brave thing by letting you come with me.”

_“Papa.”_

Luke paused. “Papa?”

Flashes of images flooded his mind. All of them were looking up at the Mandalorian, sometimes as he fought to protect Grogu, and sometimes as he held him in his arms or in a satchel. Each one was encompassed with a feeling of love and security. _“Shiny metal man is Grogu’s papa.”_

“I see,” Luke responded. That was...unexpected. When he heard the call through the Force, he could tell its source was a powerful youngling in need of training. He had assumed the child would be alone. Taking a toddler from its parent had never been his intention. He agreed with Han and Leia that his three-year-old nephew, though strong in the Force, was not old enough to leave home and begin his training yet.

However, Grogu was not a normal child. He was of Master Yoda’s species, which meant he most likely would have a long lifespan. Luke was not sure how old he already was. If he aged at the same decelerated rate as Yoda, he could be a few decades old. That was plenty of time for both the Light and the Dark to tempt the child’s young mind. He needed to learn to resist the Dark side or risk hurting others and himself. Luke would have to discern what Grogu could and could not understand yet if he was going to train him effectively.

But first things first. Sadness was rolling off of the child in waves. “Your father will be alright, Grogu,” Luke assured him. “He knew you belonged with a jedi. He made the right choice. He will find peace knowing you are safe.”

Grogu turned big, hopeful eyes up to him. He heard R2 whistle happily from his slot behind them. The child perked up as though listening. His fascination with the droid was interesting. R2 had seemed excited to see him as well. Perhaps it was because he was reminded of Yoda. Luke smiled as he watched the blue swirl of hyperspace rush past them. Hopefully, once they began their training, Grogu would be able to put thoughts of the Mandalorian behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

It seemed promising, at first. The child was excited to explore the still-under-construction temple on Yavin 4. Luke was having a new structure built near the ancient ruins of the original Massassi temple. Someday, he hoped to rebuild the Jedi Order and fill it with students. He had not expected to find one so soon, but he knew the Force sometimes worked in mysterious ways. 

Luke let Grogu spend their first day exploring the lush landscape outside. He was startled when the child caught a frog and swallowed it whole, but he seemed unharmed afterward, so he let it slide. It was the second day that the challenge began.

He spent most of it listening to Grogu’s thoughts about his past. It was difficult to follow. The child did not always remember things in chronological order. The most surprising thing he learned was that Grogu had actually trained with the masters at the old jedi temple before it was destroyed. He could not remember a time before he was there, giving no clues as to where he might have come from.

Luke received images of the temple grounds, other younglings surrounding him, and even a passing glimpse of a young Ben Kenobi. Grogu remembered varying degrees of his training. His brain was a fascinating mix of profound teachings over many years understood by a small child’s mind. There was a time when the Force flowed through him like a bright and innocent star. 

And then, darkness. He only had brief tidbits to share after his time at the temple. Being trapped in some kind of round cage for weeks at a time. Harsh words yelled at him. Changing hands often. No constant caretaker could be seen for a long, long time. The Force was dim around him. He learned that if he showed his connection to it, pain would follow. Mean hands. Selfishness. Danger.

But that all changed a few months ago. The first clear picture to come into Luke’s mind was of the Mandalorian’s masked face appearing above him for the first time. The Force sang around the warrior like a chorus in Grogu’s head.  _ This one. _ It seemed to say.  _ This is the one. _ The Force told him this man was not like the others. He could be trusted. He was safe.

A flurry of memories were shared then. All of adventures with the one he came to see as  _ Papa. _ The Mandalorian was clearly willing to put his life on the line to protect the child. He was safe. He was  _ loved.  _ It was something Grogu had never experienced before.

Their session ended when Grogu’s eyes started to droop. Luke had noticed quickly that using the Force, even to communicate as they had, tired the child out quickly. It was most likely a result of his willful suppression of his powers. Well, they could work on that.

But what he had learned was troubling. Grogu had been  _ happy _ with his adoptive father. And based on the emotional goodbye he had witnessed on the Imperial cruiser, the feeling was mutual. Grogu was still so young for one of his species. Their separation may have been premature. But then, why had he called out to Luke through the Force?

He decided to find out the following day. After breakfast, he took the child outside. It took a little coaxing, but eventually he engaged him in a game of catch, levitating pebbles back and forth to each other. When the little one was at ease, Luke asked gently, “What made you decide to reach out to me, Grogu? What would you like to learn?”

Grogu dropped the stone he had been holding with the Force. With a sad coo, his ears fell. His thoughts remembered times when he was very angry and very scared. During those times, the Force sang a different song. And sometimes, he wanted to listen. 

Luke smiled. “That temptation you feel when you are scared or angry is called the Dark Side. I can help you learn to resist it.”

The child perked up. He next thought about all the times his papa had protected him, and the few times Grogu had been able to help. He liked helping. He wanted to help Papa as much as Papa helped him. He wanted someone to teach him how.

Here Luke had to pause. Grogu was assuming that he would be returned to the Mandalorian at some point. The thought had never even crossed the jedi’s mind. From what he had been able to discover in his research, the old Jedi Order took children from their families when they were very young and never returned them. In all honesty, Luke was unsure about the wisdom behind this. He understood why they did it, but it was not something he had decided to replicate. If he had known that the Mandalorian was more to Grogu than a simple caregiver, he may have done things differently.

But it was too late now. He did not know the warrior’s name or where to find him. Instead of addressing it, he said, “Wanting to protect others is very good. This is what a jedi does. We can work on that too.”

Grogu was pleased with this response. He remained in high spirits for the next two weeks. He tried his hardest to focus when Luke taught him about emptying himself of emotion for meditation. Some of his old teachings surfaced in his mind, but he had distanced himself from the Force for so long, it was like trying to pry open rusty doors. Also, there were also butterflies to look at. And frogs croaking. And memories of a little metal ball that Luke did not recognize. The jedi told himself to be patient. This was a child.

He was reminded painfully of this fact when a sharp wail from the quarters next to him woke him up late one night. He hurried in to find the child crying in his makeshift crib. And suddenly, Luke had no idea what to do. What does one do with a crying toddler? A quick inspection showed no physical harm. “What’s wrong?” he asked, trying to project calm through the Force.

Grogu curled in on himself. The words  _ “bad dream. Scared.”  _ Came to Luke’s mind.

“Okay,” Luke said, giving his little head a pat. “Remember what we talked about for when we’re scared? Feel the flow of the Force in all the living things around you. Let your fear become one with it and wash away.”

Grogu sniffled, keeping his face turned away. He brought the mythosaur pendant to his mouth and sucked on it comfortingly as tears continued to leak from his eyes. Unsure what else he should do, Luke stayed nearby, trying to quiet the waves of distress coming off of the child through the Force until he finally fell back asleep.

Unfortunately, the bad dream was not an isolated event. The more Luke worked with Grogu on opening himself to the Force, the more often he woke up crying. The child refused to share the contents of his dreams with his mentor, and Luke hated to pry. But he also hated to see how Grogu’s spirit dimmed. He seemed disinterested in the philosophy Luke was trying his hardest to get him to understand. He fussed petulantly about the smallest things and resisted bedtime with a passion. He refused foods one day that he had eaten just fine the day before. He allowed himself to be distracted more easily during training. He squirmed and cried when Luke tried to clean him up.

It was then that the Jedi realized he was in over his head. What was he thinking, taking in a toddler? Babysitting his nephew was vastly different than being a primary caregiver. Leia would have been much better suited for this task, were she not an important senator in the New Republic.

Still, she would always take her brother’s call, no matter how busy. During the second week, Luke led the child through exercises of lifting objects with the Force until he got tired enough to nap. When he was down, Luke put in a holocall to Leia’s personal code.

“It’s about time you called,” she answered as her blue image appeared above the communicator set up in Luke’s quarters. “Last I heard, you were chasing down a Force-sensitive kid. How’d it go?”

Luke smiled. “Hello to you too. I found him. It’s a small child of Yoda’s species. He was on an Imperial light cruiser guarded by assassin droids.”

Leia’s eyebrows raised. “An Imperial remnant large enough to occupy a cruiser and build droids? I’ll need more info on that.”

“When I got there, the leader had already been subdued and the child rescued by three Mandalorians, a New Republic marshal, and someone that looked like a mercenary.”

“That sounds like an interesting story. I hope you got the details.”

Luke scratched at his chin. “I didn’t. I was more concerned with the child. I felt his presence as soon as I entered the ship, and he felt mine. After I destroyed the droids, my focus was on getting the kid out of there.”

“You’re on Yavin 4 now, then? How is the kid? Did they hurt him?”

With a sigh, Luke proceeded to summarize his trials over the last couple of weeks with the increasingly unhappy child. “It’s like everything is a fight. He doesn’t want to focus. He doesn’t want to  _ listen. _ ”

Leia had an entirely too amused smile on her face. “Welcome to parenthood.”

“I’m not his parent,” he replied, crossing his arms. “He told me the Mandalorian I found him with is his father.”

“A Mandalorian? Of Yoda’s species?”

“No, he was human. But the boy still considers him his father.”

Leia’s look turned thoughtful. “I’ve heard that adoption is an important part of their culture. Not all Mandalorians are born as such.”

“The child was sad to leave, even though he came willingly. He indicated that he wants to learn, but I sense much fear and loneliness in him. He’s had multiple bad dreams.”

“He won’t say what they’re about?”

“He doesn’t  _ say  _ anything exactly. He’s not developed enough to talk. I can feel his thoughts.”

Leia’s eyes suddenly blazed up at him. “Luke Skywalker, you mean to tell me you took a  _ baby _ from its father?! I supported you in your vision to rebuild the Jedi Order with the New Republic’s blessing because we both agreed that it would be an improvement over the old ways. We agreed that the love of family is a strength, not a weakness, and that students did not have to be small children to begin learning the ways of the Force.”

“I know, I know,” Luke replied quickly, raising his hands. “I still agree. Going in, I thought the kid was alone. I didn’t know about his relationship to the Mandalorian until we had already left.”

“And you didn’t think to ask any more about him? You just grabbed the baby and left?”

Luke felt irritation fighting against his usual calm. When Leia got like this, she was a force to be reckoned with. It was what made her a powerful senator and a victorious rebel. “I admit I may have been hasty,” he ground out. “But the child was ready. He called to me in the Force and indicated that he wanted to come with me. The Mandalorian let him go. I didn’t think there would be more to it than that.”

“Well, it’s no wonder the baby is filled with fear and loneliness,” Leia shook her head. “Can you imagine how Ben would do if he left home right now, not knowing when he’d see me or Han again?”

The jedi fidgeted at the thought. He hated to think of the happy, black-haired boy away from his parents. “What are you suggesting I do?”

Leia fell silent, pursing her lips. “If you have no way to contact the Mandalorian...then give the baby some time. It may take a while for him to adjust. Be understanding of what he’s lost. Keep things simple. Give him choices so that he feels like he has some control over his life. Make a daily schedule for him and stick to it so that he has some structure to hold onto. Let him have down time to play. In the meantime, let me see what I can find out. You said there was a New Republic marshall there. Any defining features?”

“Human female, black hair, well-built. She had a mark right here.” Luke pointed to a spot just below his left eye. “I was not close enough to tell, but it may have been an Alderaan tear. She had an aura of deep-buried sadness.”

Leia’s eyebrows raised once again. “A New Republic marshal from Alderaan? That should help narrow it down. I’ll look through our records. Maybe she’ll know where to find this Mando.”

“Thanks, Leia,” Luke said, feeling much lighter. “You’re the best.”

“I’m aware.”

Luke put his sister’s advice into practice as soon as Grogu woke up that afternoon. Instead of training, he let him spend the rest of the day chasing frogs and playing with R2. At dinner time, Luke gave him a choice between two foods to eat. After he chose one, he did not fuss about it. That night, Luke told him stories about being a boy on Tatooine until the child slowly fell asleep. For the first time in a week, they both slept through the night.

Another two weeks were spent breaking down concepts into the simplest forms Luke could think of. He took Grogu into the jungle and pointed to the lush greenery. “Life,” he said. Next, he found a decaying log and said, “Death.” He took a green leaf in one hand and a piece of the dry bark in the other. Crouching down, he held them out for the child to see. “Everything exists in a balance between them.” He lowered one hand and then the other as if the items were in an old-fashioned scale. Bringing them both level, he repeated, “Balance.”

Grogu tilted his head with a curious coo. He plucked the leaf out of Luke’s hand to consider it. Next, Luke shifted so that his shadow no longer blocked the sunlight from the child’s view. “Light,” he said. His young charge blinked at the speckles of light filtering through the canopy before Luke moved his shadow back over him. “Dark. Just the same, there is a balance of light and dark inside every being.” He brought one hand close to Grogu’s round eyes, blocking out most of his vision. “Sometimes, when we feel bad, the Dark is all we can see. It’s easy to forget that there is Light,” he pulled his hand back away, “waiting on the other side. Next time, when you are scared, look for the Light.”

The child stared up at him. Luke could sense his interest, though he was not certain how much he understood. He moved on to talking about the Force at large, and how it is created by all living things. They spent the rest of the morning distinguishing between living and non-living things. Luke started by indicating a rock and saying “non-living,” and then a tree as “living.” 

After several more examples, Grogu’s ears shot up as he suddenly realized the rules of the game. He pointed at a flower. “Living,” Luke said with a smile. The child held up a handful of dirt. “Non-living.” They moved on to Luke asking specifically for living or non-living things, which Grogu scurried to gather for him. He was brought several small stones, but the insects the kid found often went straight into his mouth. (He even gulped down one particularly large spider).

When he finally lost interest, Luke didn’t push it. He let Grogu spend the afternoons playing. He repeated the same lesson as many times in a row as it took for the concept to sink in. Only then did they revisit connecting with the Force. Maybe if they approached it a different way, they would have more success.

Luke carried the child to the floor of what would one day be the meditation chamber of the new temple. He’d had the bare structure built, and the floor partially tiled. A fresco of three figures--an old man with a long beard, a young woman with green hair, and a bald man with red eyes--had only recently been finished on the main wall. He had seen the image over and over again in his research into ancient jedi sites. Luke sat on the floor cross-legged, putting Grogu opposite him.

“Grogu,” he began. “Remember all the living things we found? I want you to see if you can feel them. Think of the frogs and the plants and the bugs right outside, and reach your mind toward them.”

He watched the little one copy his posture and then blink inquisitively. Luke closed his eyes to demonstrate. He let his thoughts touch the child’s, encouraging him to reach beyond himself. “The Force,” he said out loud. “The bird sitting on the roof. The ivy growing in the ruins. The tooka hunting rodents near our quarters. Can you feel them? The Force connects them all, like a web.”

He waited until he could feel peace gathering around the child. “Rest in it. The Force is your ally. Let it flow through you.”

Slowly, the weathered doors of Grogu’s mind creaked open a crack. There was  _ so much _ potential there. Luke could sense it. He could become a great jedi knight in time. But as they sat, their minds connected and communing with the Force, it was not images of Grogu’s bright future that found their way in.

It was the Mandalorian. _ He was fighting in a forested area. Indistinct enemies surrounded him. Blood had soaked through his under armor at his side. He struggled, fighting tooth and nail. Then finally, he fell. _

Luke felt their connection snap suddenly as the child let out a panicked wail. He jumped to his little feet and ran for the door faster than Luke knew he could move. Once he stepped outside, he looked around frantically as though expecting to see the Mandalorian there.

The jedi hurried after him. “It’s alright,” he tried to say. But the child was screaming now. He had never heard him make such a noise, not even after waking up from bad dreams. Big tears rolled down his short cheeks. 

“Grogu,” Luke tried. “It wasn’t real. It was a vision. And those aren’t always right.”

Grogu bolted for the X-wing parked several yards away. Luke ran after him, only just catching him in mid air as he force jumped ten feet off the ground toward the cockpit. “Little one — ”

“Pa!”

Luke was taken aback by the first recognizable syllable he had ever heard the child say.

“Pa… Papa! Papa!” Grogu screeched, lunging for the ship.

To Luke’s utter astonishment, the X-wing  _ moved. _ The impossibly heavy ship groaned as it scraped against the ground, inching toward them.

“Grogu!” Luke held the baby tight against his chest, pushing out calm through the Force. He could help him understand his vision if only he would settle down.

The child went limp in his arms, dissolving into sobs. “Papa…” he cried pitifully. It hurt Luke’s heart to hear. Grogu’s mind was too much of an emotional mess to hear anything his mentor said right now. So instead, Luke sat down and rocked him while he cried, trying to exude peace.

He cried for almost an hour before finally falling asleep, dried tear tracks on his green face. Luke carried him quietly to his quarters and laid him down. After making sure the transition did not wake the child, he made his way back outside with a heavy sigh.

In order to receive a vision of his father, Grogu’s bond with him must have been very strong. The trouble with Force visions was that they sometimes showed the present and sometimes the future. Luke didn’t know if the Mandalorian was in trouble now or would be sometime soon. But no future was set in stone. The Force gave warnings, glimpses. Not hard facts.

He ran a hand through his hair. He had not heard anything from Leia yet about the Mandalorian’s possible whereabouts. Even if he wanted to take the child and rush to help, he wouldn’t know where to start. He needed guidance. 

Luke retreated to his own room, knowing he could hear the child from there, and sat on the pillow he kept on his floor. He closed his eyes and opened his mind. Remaining still and quiet, he waited for the Force to bring him insight about his next steps.

He felt the presence before he heard the amused voice. “Not easy to be a master, it is, hm?”

Luke smiled. He opened his eyes to see the astral image of Master Yoda seated before him as though it were the most ordinary thing in the world. “Hello, Master. It’s been a while.”

Yoda hummed. “Changed, much has for you, young Skywalker.”

“For the better, I hope.”

A smile stretched the wrinkles on the old alien’s face. “Better? Better, hm. For who is it better?”

Luke curled and uncurled his fingers. “You already know about the child?”

Yoda’s head bobbed. “Making waves in the Force is he.”

Luke hesitated. “Master, Grogu has memories of living at the old Jedi Temple, years ago. Did you...know him?”

Yoda bowed his head. “Know him, I did. Know he survived, I did not. An orphan was he, and strong with the Force. Bring him to the temple for training, I did. Many friends did he watch grow up without him. Slow but steady was his progress. Many masters he trained with. Always accepting, always bright. Lost like all the other younglings, I thought he was. Feel him, I could not.”

Luke nodded. “I think he suppressed his connection to the Force over the years. Most likely in order to survive in a cruel galaxy.” 

“Yes. Awakened he has been.”

“I thought to train him slowly,” Luke explained. “I know he’s young for your species. I started with the basics to try and help him remember his former training. I didn’t expect a vision to find him as soon as he opened himself to the Force.”

Surprisingly, Yoda started laughing. “Oh, your doing is this? Your fault everything is, hm?”

Luke faltered. “Well, I…” He found he did not know how to end the thought.

The master shook his head foundly. “To look outside yourself, you still must learn, young Skywalker. Reacquainted with the Force the child already was. Found someone to protect did he. Revealed his powers, he did to him.”

“His attachment to his adoptive father is strong. His thoughts dwell on him constantly. But to be honest, I was unsure if I should encourage it. I was afraid it would be a distraction from his training. I know in the Jedi Order Grogu was raised under, he would not have been encouraged to have parental figures.”

Yoda let out a forlorn sigh and said quietly. “Many mistakes the Jedi made. During my years in exile, many times did I wonder how differently we could have handled your father. Take him from his mother did the Jedi, but robbed him of the father he needed did the Sith. Had he the support he craved, very different the galaxy may now be.”

Luke took that in. “Obi-Wan never told me that. The father Anakin needed...he was also a Jedi?”

“Never traditional was Master Qui-Gon Jinn. Loved more deeply than the rest of us, did he. Had he survived to train Anakin, perhaps learn about letting go your father could have.”

“But Master, this Mandalorian...he loves Grogu, but the Force is not strong with him. He cannot give him the training he needs. He knew that himself, which is why he let the child come with me.”

“Training in the ways of the Force, we used to believe was most important. ...But another padawan I encountered not many years ago. Training he needed, yes. But keep him from the Dark Side it did not. Only the support of his family kept him pursuing the Light. Perhaps, for some younglings, the better way this is.”

Luke sat up straighter. “You know of another Jedi alive today?”

“His path and yours, not the same are they. To the child you must attend. Abandon him do not; but the love of his father a strength will be for him. Returned to him, Grogu must be.”

Just then, Luke’s communication port in the corner of the room beeped with an incoming message. He glanced at it for only a second. When his eyes returned to where Yoda’s image had been, he found an empty room. He wanted to take a moment to think about what he had learned, but he felt the Force drawing him to the waiting message.

Curious, he accessed the port to find a written message from Leia waiting for him. He scanned over it quickly, a smile forming on his face.

_ Luke, _

_ I’m sorry I don’t have time to call just now. I have a lead on the Mandalorian. A report was filed a few weeks ago from one Marshall Cara Dune of Nevarro. She is an Alderaan survivor. She brought an Imperial Moff named Gideon into New Republic custody. Her report credits a Mandalorian bounty hunter named Djarin for the capture. I was able to get into contact with her for more information. She says the Mando is currently hunting down Imperial remnants on her behalf. She provided me with his current job site. _

_ Dune also warned me that Djarin has not been the same since capturing Gideon. She strongly hinted that he lost something of importance after the incident. I think we may have found our devastated father. I’ll send you the coordinates. Be careful. _

_ Leia _

  
  


No sooner had Luke read the last line than he heard Grogu wake up with a whimper. The Jedi quickly downloaded the coordinates attached to Leia’s message onto a data stick and went next door.

He found Grogu sitting up in his crib, ears drooping and tears already starting to form in his eyes. Luke picked him up. “Alright, little one,” he said. “Let’s go find your papa.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers! Thank you for all your comments on the first two chapters! I hope the final one was worth your wait. :)

Din’s new ship was not the Razor Crest. In some ways, it was nicer. Newer, for certain. But he had not been able to replace all of the weapons that had been destroyed aboard his old ship, nor was the compact carbonite freezer fully set up. It was fast and efficient and that was all that mattered.

The money he had received from the New Republic for turning in Gideon had allowed him his pick of ships to some degree. When he chose one that had larger sleeping space and a mini kitchen for actually preparing food, he told himself it was not because he was secretly hoping that he could someday show it to the kid. The fact that the sink in the fresher would be large enough to bathe the baby in was irrelevant. Grogu was gone, safe with his own kind, and Din knew that.

A part of him, though — a rather large part, actually — still refused to accept it. His body kept waking him up every few hours to check on a little one that was no longer in a hammock above him. He caught himself more than once looking over his shoulder to the copilot’s seat to look at someone that wasn’t there. Every single time he was reminded of the emptiness around him, the whole in his chest grew a little deeper.

At first, he went back to Nevarro with Cara. He spent three straight days in a haze, in a room somewhere alone (pointedly ignoring all of Bo-Katan’s attempts to contact him), sleeping and wallowing in grief, not eating. Then Cara came in, bullied him until he ate, and offered him work. He took it. He needed something,  _ anything _ , to distract him from this hollow existence his life was becoming.

He didn’t put his helmet back on until he arrived at his first job. He was still unsure if he was technically allowed to wear it, but he needed his quarry to see an intimidating Mandalorian bulwark, not the broken man underneath.

Chasing down Imperial thugs and collecting payment from the New Republic was somewhat gratifying. At least it gave him an excuse not to pull his punches. The Republic wanted prisoners alive for questioning, but Cara happily looked the other way if he dragged one in unconscious or a little bloodied. Hunting failed to give him the satisfaction it used to, though. There was no covert to return to. No tiny mouth to feed. 

No reason to keep going.

It slowly dawned on Din as the weeks crawled by. He had no purpose anymore. He drifted aimlessly, hopping from one job to the next with all the mechanical precision of a droid. He was losing the ability to feel anything but that ache in his chest he couldn’t shake. Cara noticed. She tried to convince him to stick around, maybe play a game of sabaac, but Din declined and headed for his next target.

Within a month, he was mostly numb. Surviving on auto-pilot. Only one thing reminded him that his heart was still beating. He had drilled a hole through the middle of Grogu’s metal ball and strung a thin leather strap through it. He now wore it around his neck wherever he went, listening to it clink against his beskar breastplate with every step he took. It was a grounding rhythm. Sometimes, it was all he could hear when the rest of the world blurred around him.

He listened to it now as his feet left the ramp of his ship and stepped onto the soil of Ord Mantell, where his latest quarry was hiding out. The target was an ex-ISB agent who had apparently taken refuge among the Black Sun Syndicate after the Empire fell, but was still keeping busy sabotaging New Republic efforts to clean up the planet. Din shifted his tracking fob side to side. Greef Karga, ever the opportunist, had modified a bundle of them to lead to those wanted by the New Republic instead of the Hunters’ Guild. That way, he could be considered respectable and still get paid nicely.

Din had landed his ship near the outskirts of one of the planet’s smaller cities, but the fob led him away from it. When he pointed it toward the surrounding forest instead, the tracker beeped faster. Trekking through woods it was then. He checked his blaster to be sure it was charged, his belt to count the explosives stored there, his vibro knife inside his boot, the flamethrower on his bracer, and the beskar spear strapped to his back. Crime syndicates were hardly known for loyalty, even to their own. Hopefully if the Imperial was still among them, he could scare off the bulk of the extras and grab the target before he ran.

The forest canopy and thin clouds made the sunlight hazy as Din picked his way through the growth. Nothing about these woods was like the tall, healthy trees on Sorgan. The Ord Mantell landscape always seemed somehow choked and bleak the handful of times he had been here before. It was like the land itself was tired of being mistreated. 

Din walked for a good half hour until he saw signs of sentient life. He tucked the metal ball inside the neck of his cloak and silenced the fob. Flicking on the thermal sensor in his helmet, he scanned the ground for footprints. Many sets of them stood out as orange and yellow shapes on top of smashed leaves. He must be nearing one of their camps.

Though it had taken years to learn to be stealthy in a full set of armor, Din had mastered it. Drawing his blaster, he crept forward until he could hear distant voices. He crouched behind a fallen tree and put his scope to his visor. He could see a mix of humans and falleen milling about a circle of temporary structures. Some of them were gathered around crates and talking over a data pad. He estimated about eighteen people in all. That was doable. Zooming in on the crates, Din could make out a symbol painted on the sides of one black circle inside another with triangular rays pointing outward. The insignia of the Black Sun. He waited, watching for anyone who looked like they did not belong to come into view.

There. A light skinned human with an arrogant face walked up to the group with the data pad. He was dumb enough to still wear his Imperial officer uniform as though his stripes meant anything anymore. Putting the scope away, Din pulled a small explosive from his belt. He stuck it to the tree trunk nearest him and adjusted the timer to its longest setting. Then he moved carefully around to the other side of the camp, keeping to the shadows.

He only had to wait a few seconds once he was in position. The explosion rocked the earth on the opposite side of the encampment from where Din stood, blaster at the ready. When the syndicate rushed toward the source of the fire, weapons drawn, Din shot them in the back, one after the other. He downed four of them before someone turned around in time to take a shot at him. Three bolts peppered his beskar in rapid succession. All three of the falleen responsible fell immediately after from the Mandalorain’s well-placed shots.

Five people who had been headed for the blast whipped around. Din activated his flamethrower and moved his arm in an arc before him. Those closest to him had to jump back. Everyone else was surprised enough to pause, and that was all Din needed. He picked them off with bolts to the chest. An enraged falleen ran at him from the side, a vibroblade shimmering in his grasp. Din caught the blade with his bracer. He knocked the man hard in the temple with his wrist guard, sending him sprawling to the ground, unconscious. 

Suddenly, only the Imperial was left. He stood frozen in the middle of the camp, eyes wide. The bodies of the syndicate littered the forest floor around him, most still smoking. He pointed his shaking blaster at Din in the sudden quiet. The Mandalorian faced him, weapon also ready. He gave the man a few seconds to fully realize his predicament.

“Who sent you, hunter?” the Imperial asked in a voice that’s pitch betrayed his fear. 

Din remained as silent and still as a statue. Bringing the target in alive was always easier if they surrendered. It would not take this one long.

Sweat trickled down the Imperial’s forehead. “If it’s credits you’re after, the Empire can pay you more than whatever guild you’re with now.”

Din said nothing.

The man’s eyes flicked back and forth. The sound of a large animal roaring in the distance made him glance over his shoulder. “You hear that? If the nexu come this way, then it will be the end of the line for both of us.”

“Let’s make this simple then,” Din replied evenly. “I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.”

The man looked behind Din at the same time that the Mandalorian registered movement. The falleen he had knocked out was not so unconscious after all. He sprang up with a snarl and threw himself at Din’s back. Strong arms wrapped around his neck. The Imperial took his chance to turn and sprint away. Din shoved his elbow hard into the falleen’s stomach, forcing him to let go. Then in one swift movement, he shot his grappling line at his fleeing target. It wrapped itself around the man’s legs, forcing him to fall roughly on his face. With his other hand, Din turned his blaster toward the criminal still behind him.

And that was when pain, sharp and fiery, exploded in his side. The shock of it made him lose his grip on his blaster. He looked down to find the sharp end of his own beskar spear buried in his hip. He followed the shaft to the hands of the falleen whose bruised temple did nothing to hide his sneer.

Din’s under armor was strong. A vibroblade could not have pierced it. But beskar? That would do it. The world spun around him. With a satisfied grunt, the falleen ripped the spear back out, raining blood in its wake.

Din fell.

*****

Grogu’s long ears flapped around his head as he and Luke rode on a speederbike, whipping in between trees. This was the planet where Papa was supposed to be, and Grogu was nervous. What if they were too late? Papa needed help! He knew Luke was going as fast as he could. Too fast for a normal human who was not guided by the Force to be able to navigate this landscape. But it still didn’t feel fast enough. Something terrible was about to happen. Grogu could feel it in his heart.

He was strapped to Luke’s chest in a sling, so he could feel the jedi suddenly tense as they swerved wildly. An enormous creature with huge teeth jumped out of the woods at the exact spot they had just been. Gorgu shrieked when Luke ground the bike to a halt in just enough time to backflip off of it as a second beast swiped a massive paw at them. This one gave a horrible roar when it missed.

Luke’s green lightsaber was in his hand by the time he landed lightly on his feet. Grogu got a good look at the creatures as they circled them. They walked on four paws, were bigger than a human, had a much too-large mouth filled with horrible fangs, had four eyes, and coarse fur. They could have swallowed Grogu as easily as he swallowed frogs.

Luke stood in what the child vaguely remembered from his long ago training was the ready position. When one of the monsters pounced, he held his hand out toward it. The thing was stopped in midair, struggling angrily. Then the other one jumped too. Luke vaulted backward, but not before the long claws ripped through the strap of the sling.

Grogu hit the leafy forest floor and rolled.

“Grogu!” Luke cried. He spared him enough of a glance to ensure that he was alright before turning his attention back to the beasts. “Stay hidden!” he shouted.

Grogu scrambled behind a tree trunk, the sound of a lightsaber whizzing through the air behind him. He peeked out of his hiding place to watch Luke fight. They didn’t have time for this! Papa needed them! He let out a helpless whine, feeling scared.

_ Sometimes, when we feel bad, the Dark is all we can see. It’s easy to forget that there is Light waiting on the other side. Next time, when you are scared, look for the Light. _

That’s what Luke had said. The child glanced at the battle before him again and then turned away, closing his eyes. The beasts felt dark in the Force. But he remembered the very first time he had met his father. How Light and song seemed to swirl around him. It was a feeling he had come to associate with  _ home _ and  _ safety _ . He focused on the feeling, willing it to materialize again.

He opened his eyes when he felt a strong pull in the Force. It was leading him away from Luke and the monsters, further into the trees. He followed it, his little feet breaking into a run.  _ Please, _ he thought.  _ Please let it be Papa. _

*****

Din had not been in so much pain since IG-11 had rescued him from the brink of death. But there was no bacta spray on hand this time. Blood was gushing from his side at an alarming rate, making his head light. Fire ate through his insides. He knew an organ must have been pierced by the spear. He tried to hold a weak, shaking hand to the wound as he coughed.

“Finish him, finish him!” the Imperial yelled as he desperately tried to untangle his feet from the grappling line.

Din rolled over onto his back, scraping for his blaster. But he did not know where it had fallen and his head was so fuzzy. The bulky, green-skinned falleen raised the bloodied spear above him, aiming for his neck.

And suddenly Din felt...relieved. To some degree, he’d been waiting for this to happen ever since sending Grogu away. He had lost his purpose that day. What was the point of living when one had already died inside? No one could say he hadn’t earned a warrior’s death.

He closed his eyes, waiting for the strike that would end it.

Except it never came. His attacker made a confused, indignant sound. Din looked up to see the man floating a foot off the ground, his arms frozen in place.

The Mandalorian’s eyes went wide. “No…” he breathed. In a sudden burst of strength, he sat up and looked around frantically. 

There, at the edge of the camp, was a little green figure, eyes half squinted in concentration and three-fingered hands outstretched. The Imperial followed his gaze. When he saw the child, he aimed his blaster.

“No!” Din screamed. He lunged for his own blaster, his eyesight clearing enough to find it, and shot the human squarely in the chest. Next, he whipped around and delivered an identical shot to the falleen. The alien fell limp to the ground, spear rolling away.

Din lowered his weapon, hands trembling. He looked back to see Grogu running towards him. “K-kid…” he gasped out. He tried to scoot toward him, but the adrenaline rush was fading now, and pain overcame him. His vision whited out for a few seconds. When he came to, he was on his back and that precious little face was hovering just above his helmet.

“What,” Din rasped, coughing again and tasting blood on his tongue. “Kid, what...are you doing here?”

With an urgent hum, the kid moved away from his view. Maybe Din was hallucinating. Maybe the blood loss was making him see the thing he most wanted right before he died. The pain flared and he groaned. He supposed it wasn’t a horrible way to go. Even if he had imagined it, he saw his kid one last time, and that was something.

But as he laid there, breathing deep, the pain slowly receded. Din thought perhaps he was slipping away from life at last, but then it dawned on him. He raised his head and looked down at his side. Sure enough, Grogu had his tiny hands pressed to his wound, brow creased in concentration.

“N-no, don’t…” he tried to say. He had already used his powers to stop the falleen. Would healing a serious injury on top of that be too much for him? What if, instead of just falling asleep, he didn’t wake up again this time? “Stop,” Din whispered weakly. He wanted to fight it, but his body was overcome with the feeling of flesh knitting itself back together. It was bizarre. He had to close his eyes as energy swelled and his head cleared.

By the time he could open them again, feeling a thousand times better, Grogu had sat back, his hands bloody and his eyes drooping. Nevertheless, he looked over at Din with a tired smile and a happy coo.

_ “Kid. _ ” Din quickly swept the baby into his arms, cuddling him under his chin. “You shouldn’t have done that. It was dangerous. What are you doing here? You were supposed to be with the jedi.”

Grogu leaned back enough that he could look Din in the eyes through his visor. He put his hands on either side of his helmet and said, clear as day, “Papa.”

Din almost choked. “ _ What? _ Did...did you just —”

“Oh, thank the Force.”

The Mandalorian leapt to his feet, blaster in hand. Then, upon seeing Luke Skywalker deactivating his lightsaber, hands raised in surrender, he relaxed.

“I’m so glad we found you in time,” the jedi said with a friendly smile.

“What’s going on?” Din demanded. “Why did you bring him here? You put him in danger!”

“It was the child who brought us here. He had a vision about your being in trouble and would accept nothing but that we come find you.”

The word  _ vision _ threw Din for a loop. Just when he thought he had a grasp on these weird jedi powers, more presented themselves. He stared at Luke, waiting for him to elaborate.

The jedi looked around at the carnage at their feet. “This is not the best place for this conversation. Let’s head back to your ship. I’ll explain on the way.”

Din looked down at Grogu, snuggled in the crook of his arm. The kid gave a contented yawn. Babbling something unintelligible, he patted Din’s breastplate with one hand and then dropped off to sleep. Yes, they should definitely get away from here. He had precious cargo again.

The Mandalorian took a brief moment to holster his blaster, gather up his spear, and recover his grappling line from the dead Imperial. He ripped the officer’s patch off the man’s uniform. Proof of death for a target was still worth half the price, and in this case Din was more than happy to take it.

He was alert as they left the camp, wary that more Black Sun scum might pop out of the woodworks. Luke seemed calm though, so that probably counted for something.

“Start talking,” Din said gruffly after they were several paces away.

Luke hesitated for a moment as though deciding how to start. “First, I would like to apologize,” he said surprisingly.

“Apologize?”

“For taking Grogu so rashly. I didn’t know his full circumstance, and the child did not fully understand what he was agreeing to. He was assuming he would be returned to you after a time of training. The separation was not easy on him, and I understand it was not easy on you either. For that, I’m sorry.”

Din squeezed the baby a little closer to him, not bothering to deny it.

“Grogu is beyond gifted. His connection to the Force is strong, but his attachment to you is stronger. Just as soon as I got him to really open himself to the energy of the Force, you were the first thing he saw. He foresaw that you would be in danger and immediately tried to get to you.”

Din’s throat felt dry. He was quiet for a moment as they passed by the corpses of two huge predatory animals with noticeable lightsaber wounds. “How did you find me?” he finally asked.

Luke smiled. “That took a little creativity. Luckily, we were able to get in contact with Marshal Dune. She told us that the location of your next bounty was Ord Mantell. Beyond that, the Force guided us.”

Right. Okay. Din was never going to understand that. “Thank you,” he said. “But you shouldn’t have come. It’s going to be even harder for him to forget me now that he’s seen me again.” The words carved at the hole in his chest, but they had to be said. Grogu was supposed to move on. Learn to be a jedi. Forget his fleeting time with the Mandalorian. 

Luke stopped walking and turned to face him. “You misunderstand me. The child is staying with you.”

Din turned toward him so fast his cape slapped his leg guards. “What?”

“I’ve come to realize that he is too young, comparatively, to be separated from his parent. He was alone for so many years. It’s only natural that he would want to stay with the one he sees as a father now. He needs time to heal from the loneliness he faced before he’s ready to focus on his training.”

Din refused to let himself hope. This was not how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to return the foundling to its own kind, either of their feelings be damned. He was convinced he had been doing the right thing. “You said talent without training was nothing. That he wouldn’t be safe until he masters his abilities,” he replied angrily. “Now you’re backing out?”

Luke was not phased. “No. But it was never my intention to take away his free will. We all deserve a choice as to what our future will be.” The jedi stepped forward and put one hand on Din’s shoulder. “And Mando, Grogu chooses you.”

Din belatedly registered that his heart was pounding loudly in his chest. Something he had forgotten how to feel. “But,” he stammered, “I can’t train him. I can’t protect him from his own powers.”

“You won’t have to.” Luke reached into the pocket of his black cloak and withdrew a data stick. “This is my contact information, including the location of my new Jedi temple. I’m trusting you not to let it fall into the wrong hands. Once every few months, bring Grogu to me on Yavin 4. I’ll keep him for a week or two and teach him about the Force. You can even stay, if you like. Then, he’ll go back home with you.”

_ Home _ . The word felt so foreign now. Din was not sure he had a place to call home. He looked down at the child, breathing peacefully against his chest, and thought maybe he could.

“When he’s matured, he can stay for longer periods. But only once he’s ready.”

Din knew what the jedi was proposing. That he raise Grogu as his own. That the child’s first priority be family and the second his training. The unspoken part of Din wanted that so much it hurt. But he was still afraid. There was at least one major obstacle left. “The lifespan of his species…” he said hesitantly. “The child is already 50 years old. He could outlive either of us by centuries.”

Luke crossed his arms, nodding. “He surely will. The other being I knew like Grogu lived to be over 900. As he matures, you’ll have to be sure he understands that. Help prepare him to let you go. If all goes according to plan, he won’t be alone when the time comes. I’ll train other jedi alongside him that will help keep him on his path. They’ll train other jedi, and they others, and Grogu can live alongside them all.”

Din felt as though a weight was slowly lifting off his shoulders. Could it actually be possible? Could his kid really have the best of both worlds? Could they spend their years together and still let Grogu fulfill his greater purpose? Could they really both win? He took a shaky breath, hardly daring to believe it. “And you don’t think his…’attachment’ to me will be a problem? I met another of your kind who refused to train him because of it.”

Luke dropped his arms with raised eyebrows. “Did you? Then I must respectfully disagree with them. The jedi of old taught that love was a hindrance, but I have seen that it can actually be a strength if applied correctly.” His eyes grew distant as he added, almost to himself, “Especially the love of a father.” 

Father. The one thing Din had always refused to think of himself as, even though he knew Grogu saw him that way. If he had admitted to himself that he already loved the kid as his own, he never would have been able to fulfill his task and give him back to his own kind. But now...there was no barrier left between them. Grogu was free to be both foundling and jedi. He had  _ chosen  _ to be. And that, more than anything else, was what finally crumbled the remnants of Din’s resolve.

A wet chuckle escaped his throat. The pain of the last month began swirling away, like water down a drain. He was grateful for his helmet at that moment. He could not be sure his eyes were entirely dry. Luke seemed to understand. He tactfully retrieved his speederbike, setting it to idle beside him as they turned and continued their walk in silence.

The jedi could have ridden the bike back to his own ship by now. He’d done what he set out to do, said what he meant to say. Din suspected that he stayed to offer extra protection against any looming threats this planet had to offer. If he had been alone, Din would have been offended. With the child in his arms though, he would not refuse an extra set of eyes. 

Neither of them spoke until Din’s ship came into view. They stopped when they came to it. Luke waited patiently for Din to speak first. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Din said sincerely, “Thank you. For everything. We’ll be in touch.”

Smiling, Luke held his arm out. Din gripped his forearm in farewell and gave a grateful nod.

“One last thing, Mandalorian,” the jedi said, curiosity lighting his face. “This other jedi you met...can you tell me about them?”

“It was a togruta named Ahsoka Tano. I found her on Corvus, though I doubt she’s still there. I got the impression she was just passing through. She wielded two white sabers. She didn’t tell me much about herself, or what she was after.”

Luke drank the tidbits in eagerly anyway. Din remembered then what Ahsoka had said about how not many jedi were left. They must be so rare that they scarcely crossed paths. 

Much like Mandalorians. 

“Thank you,” Luke said after a moment of thought. He looked down at the sleeping child. “I’ll see you again, little one.” With a final nod to Din, he mounted his bike.

The Mandalorian watched him speed off toward the city’s spaceport for a moment before striding up his ship’s ramp and closing it behind him. He felt strangely giddy and he prepped the ship for take off one-handed; too much energy coursed through his veins for someone who had almost died not an hour ago.

It took him a little longer than usual to set a course for Nevarro and jump to hyperspace. But to do it quicker would mean putting the kid down, and that was something he simply was not ready to do. It didn’t matter. They had time now.

The ship made the jump and the gentle hum of vibrating metal was like a welcome song. They were safe. They were together. Din stared at the boy unabashedly. He couldn’t get over the fact that he was  _ here. _ Moved, he lifted his helmet off so he could take in every detail with his own eyes. The wisps of hair on his green head, the tinge of pink around his eyes, the too-small nose. All things he remembered, but which seemed more fascinating now.

He noticed then that dried blood still coated Grogu’s hands. That wouldn’t do. Easing carefully out of the pilot’s chair, Din searched for a clean rag. He would need to clean himself up at some point too, and his under armor would need stitching, but that was far less important. He wet the rag in the basin before returning to his seat. As gently as he could, he wiped the blood off of one three-fingered hand at a time. Just as he finished, the child’s nose scrunched up and his black eyes blinked open lazily.

“Hey, pal,” Din said quietly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Grogu’s eyes went wide as he gazed up at the Mandalorian. A shiver of anxiety whisked through Din. He hoped the kid would recognize him without the helmet. He’d seen his face the one time before they said goodbye, but it was so brief. Maybe the helmet was what he was more comfortable with.

Then Grogu opened his mouth and said in a tiny voice, “Papa.”

Din’s hands moved without him telling them to. He pulled the baby into the crook of his neck and wrapped both of his arms around him. It was probably uncomfortable for the poor thing, but  _ gods. _ He didn’t know it was possible to feel so full. He’d gone from empty to overflowing in the span of a single day. Is this what parents felt like when they held a new baby for the first time? Is this how happy Grogu was when the Mandalorian learned and started calling him by his real name?

“Grogu,” he whispered, returning the favor. He felt a tiny hand pat his bare cheek.

“Papa,” the child replied as though satisfied.

Din laughed as a tear slid down his cheek. He wiped at it with one hand, pulling Grogu back to look at him. “Yeah kid, that’s me.”

The child bounced in place as Din held him. “Papa! Papa! Papa, Papa, Papa, Papa!”

Din laughed in earnest. “Oh, so it’s a game now?” His laughing made the child laugh, which kept him laughing too. He could not remember the last time he had so much as smiled. Now his mouth hurt from grinning. Without even thinking about it, he planted a kiss on the baby’s head.

He froze. He could vaguely recall kissing his parents goodnight as a child, but he had not dared such a thing since their deaths, and certainly not since swearing the creed. It felt unfamiliar, but also...instinctual. One of the last things his father had ever done was kiss him on the head before hiding him away in that cellar. Perhaps that’s just what parents did.

Grogu did not seem bothered. He titled his head curiously, making that content half-purr half-grunt noise that Din would not admit was adorable. The kid’s attention was diverted soon enough when he pointed excitedly at Din’s neck. The Mandalorian reached up to find the metal ball on its string. “You remember this?” he asked.

With a happy coo, Grogu reached inside the neck of his own robes and pulled out the mythosaur foundling pendant. Din’s vision blurred again. He still had it? “Um, yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “I guess we match, huh?” He looked at the beskar necklace in Grogu’s small hands. Even if he did not understand what Din was about to say now, he would repeat it as many times in the future as he needed until he did. “You see this? This means you’re a foundling.” Din turned the pendant around so that the child could look at it properly. “It means you’re  _ my _ foundling. My son.” He almost didn’t get the last word out, but there was no going back now.

Looking into the endless black eyes of his little one, he said, “ _ Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad, Grogu. _ ” 

Grogu blinked at him inquisitively, and Din pressed on. “That’s Mando’a. It means ‘I know your name as my child.’ It means we’re a team now, and always will be, no matter what.”

Perhaps Grogu’s powers granted him some level of understanding even when words did not. Reaching up, he pressed the pendant against the metal ball around Din’s neck and cooed happily.

“That’s right,” Din murmured proudly. “Together.” He rested his forehead gingerly against the kid’s.

Maybe the future was uncertain. Maybe the time they had together would be limited from Grogu’s long-lived perspective. But they had now. They had lives to live. 

And it would be worth every minute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad = "I know your name as my child." The Mandalorian adoption vow. Here's what Wookieepedia has to say about it:   
> "Comprised of a simple statement of intent, a prospective Mandalorian parent needed only to recite the phrase ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad—"I know your name as my child"—followed by the name of the individual to be adopted. The tradition could be conducted on a singular basis, or toward a group, and even in some cases, posthumously. Adoption via the gai bal manda and a dedication to the Resol'nare, the six basic tenets of Mandalorian culture, was often considered all it took to make one a Mandalorian."


End file.
